Losing My Mind
by The Final Lament
Summary: It's hard living in a Soul-owned city, it has been months since Matt was even able to walk out in the sunlight. With his life on hold till the night time Matt finds himself facing the hardest of choices. His life? Or his species?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I've wanted to write this for a while now and with my current fic finishing drive now seemed a good time. I honestly view The Host as a book likely to be recognised as a classic in a few decades. If not for it's written quality – which is still very good – then for it's brilliant use of perspective.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Host nor am I profiting from this fic.

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><p><p>

Matt watched from the darkness, his hood shrouding his face in shadow. It was the first time in a week he'd been able to step outside.

Careful to avoid eye contact with any of the passersby he broke into a jog, after a year of living like this his fitness was starting to slip. The parasites around him didn't pay any attention to him. They never did.

He wished he had more time, just to be able to step out into the sunlight, but he knew it could never happen. He had five hours until he had to get back inside, it was ironic really, before the invasion going to bed at three in the morning would have been a good thing for him. Now it was just annoying.

Sighing deeply he began to circle back on himself.

Home. Yet it no longer felt like it. Matt slumped backwards into the couch, it was only midnight, three hours till he planned on going to bed. With a few hours to burn he selected a DVD. Alien, it was a sign of how pacifist the parasites were that watching a horror film was practically an act of rebellion.

Less than half an hour into the film and he was already regretting it. Too many painful memories. He'd wanted to be a scientist, maybe sign up for the first Mars mission or something, how lucky the guys at NASA must have felt, having the aliens come to them instead. Frustrated almost to the point of tears he turned the DVD player off. Instead he headed for the bookshelf, in the old days a good book would have him absorbed into it's pages within five minutes. It was still a good distraction though. The only question was which book.

Pratchett's stuff was out, he had a low enough opinion of humanity at the moment and didn't need reminding how stupid his species had been.

Colfer was also out, last thing he wanted right now was anything remotely sci-fi.

Tolkien's Lord of the Rings would take to long, he hated leaving a book unfinished.

Rowling was a bit too upbeat.

Feist was just too wordy to be reading during the early hours of the morning.

Finally he settled on Catch-22, the book was mildly tattered and the spine looked like it had been on the wrong end of an annoyed rhino but that was in many ways the sign of a good book. Anyway, dark comedy appealed at the moment and the epic war parody fit the bill.

Settling on the sofa he began to read.

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><p><p>

Rising Skywards woke groggily, despite a full night's sleep the soul didn't feel rested in the slightest. Stretching stiffly 'she' got up. A quick glance at the clock told her she'd overslept by an hour but today it didn't matter. She had the day off.

She'd found tea helped, the body had been somewhat addicted to it before she'd taken residence in his head. It was a constant source of annoyance, she was a Mother and had requested the equivalent body but one hadn't been available at the time and she was far too committed to the soul's way of life to skip.

She settled down in front of the telly, planning to simply relax for an hour or so. Instead she found herself looking around the room, she'd never had the heart to change it.

Hanging from the curtain rail were a load of judo medals, the majority bronze but there were a couple of golds dotted here and there. The cabinet on the right was full of chess trophies although none from a major competition but that didn't matter, the medals, the trophies, they were all part of what made up someone's life. As did the bookshelves, the games, the guitar - gathering dust long before she'd arrived, the trinkets and junk, the latter she had got rid of. And now it was her life and in many ways it seemed she had a responsibility to look after it.

Feeling slightly restless and melancholy she decided to go for a walk, another habit she'd picked up from the original owner.

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><p><p>

Author's Note: And that's the introductory chapter done.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Sorry a second chapter took me so long. Read and review as always etc etc. Now here's the chapter.

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><p><p>

As soon as Rising Skywards reached her car they struck. One slammed her door shut and blocked her off from reaching it again while the other two prevented her from escaping the car park. Grinning viciously they advance as terrified the Soul tried backed away.

Approaching slowly one drew a blade out from his long overcoat. A large blade that her host's memory associated with preparing fish.

"Not so tough on your own are you parasite?" One sneered, slowly hitting his palm with a cricket bat.

"No, Seekers to save you here." Said another, slipping a pair of metal objects around his fingers, once more the host provided the name, knuckledusters.

"We're going to gut you like a fish." taunted the one with the knife.

As she got closer and closer to backing into the wall her body was in turmoil. She was terrified and as a Soul her first instinct was to run. Unfortunately the body seemed to disagree, his hands had already curled into fasts and it's reflex was to lash out.

She'd read about it once in one of the host's science books, humans called it the fight or flight instinct, something nearly all creatures possessed. At the moment it was leading to something of a conflict of interests, she was choosing flight whilst the body wanted to plough straight into fight.

Finally she ran out of room to back away, pressed against the wall there was nowhere to go, no escape.

"Please..." She begged, the body's voice deep and sonorous, and to be honest not very good at begging. "You don't want to do this."

"That's where you're wrong, we do. Given time we'll wipe your stinking species off the face of this planet."

The knife descended towards her.

A hand shot out and grabbed the offending wrist. "Drop it." said a strong male voice.

"Not a chance."

"I said drop it." the voice commanded, the hand dug it's fingertips into the wrist with a cruel and exacting precision, striking the nerve centres with ease. With a pained yell the knife fell to the floor, impaling it's wielder in the foot.

"Now... are you going to leave or do I have to start breaking things."

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><p><p>

He'd noticed them immediately. Stalking the Soul. Matt knew they'd killed before, they were too coordinated for this to be their first attack. And the Soul was completely unaware of what they were or what they were planning.

There was nothing for it. He had to stop them, or die trying.

It had been ages since he'd been in a fight, if anything he was looking forwards to it. There was nothing quite as good for getting the body pumped full of adrenaline, or at least nothing Matt had ever come across.

They had the Soul trapped now. As she backed away Matt began to prioritise, he'd have to wait for the one with the knife to attack so he could take care of it. With the most immediate dangers gone he could move on to the others.

The important thing was to stay calm, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so angry but you couldn't afford to be angry during a fight.

As the knife came down he reached for the wrist.

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><p><p>

Author's Note: Had to rewrite this chapter twice before I got it even resembling what I wanted, still it's done now so hopefully it's smooth sailing from here. Sorry it's so short.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long between updates, had to give a fic that was near completion priority, said fic is now complete so there might be regular updates in the near future.

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><p><p>

It had been a long time since Matt had felt true rage. The feeling returned to him like an old friend, as he waited for the three stooges to back down, or not as the case may be.

There was a trick to using rage, on it's own the emotion was self-destructive but if channelled and harnessed it made a potent weapon.

The one with the cricket bat went first, charging forwards with a yell, an amateur mistake, as the bat came down Matt simply stepped aside and grabbed the wrist, pulling in a circular motion. The goon thudded down hard on the concrete, probably out of the fight but Matt stamped on his fingers and kicked the bat away to be sure, old instincts coming back to him readily now he needed them. He'd never been a professional fighter of any description but he still knew a few tricks that took the unprepared offguard.

The knuckleduster collided with his jaw, Matt rolled with the punch only to be caught in the gut as he tried to regain his balance.

Doubled over the elbow to the back of the head drove him to the floor. Matt rolled away, avoiding the standard follow up of a kick in the ribs.

He got shakily to his feet, the guy having backed off in the hopes of some support from the other two, pack mentality ruining the advantage they'd had.

Still as the one with the knife, having plucked it from his bleeding foot, came at him again there was no time for conscious thought, only action and reaction.

The one with the knife lunged forward. Matt grabbed the arm, pulling it forwards again and driving the palm of the other hand into the elbow joint. There was a wet crack. The guy reeled back screaming as Matt moved past him, sweeping a retreating ankle as he went for the one with the knuckleduster.

Unfortunately it appeared that here was someone who could fight. As Matt's fist swung out, a cross to the jaw, the thug blocked it easily, spinning inside his guard and elbowing him in the ribs. Matt backed away, eyes falling on the cricket bat.

It was time to level the playing field somewhat. While he still could think clearly, he could already feel it, the rage was still building and any second it could overwhelm him, forcing him to lose control. And against these sorts of odds there was no way he'd survive.

Matt waited, the former owner of the club had got up and was clutching his, most likely, broken hand, malice and murder in his eyes, he charged forwards, anger fueling his charge as his fellow thug tried to calm him to no avail.

Matt sent him sprawling with a well placed trip, taking care to stamp on the other hand before his friend could intervene. In fact the single thug still standing was making no attempt to intervene and instead was staring at him intently, sizing him up, evaluating. Matt met his gaze firmly.

With a shrug the thug turned and ran, leaving his partners in hatred to Matt's limited mercy.

Matt weighed up his options, mindful of the still terrified soul in the background. He grabbed the one with the broken arm by his collar, lifting him up to,and then off of, his feet.

"I've got a good mind for faces. If I ever see yours again they won't even find the body. Scream in agony if you understand." Matt twisted the broken arm, the thug voiced his understanding.

Matt dropped him, letting the two slip away out of the car park.

Finally his thoughts went inwards, to the Soul he'd saved, he found her mind easily, a part of his own yet not of him, and, unable to bear the disgust and fear directed towards him, fled into the darkness.

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><p><p>

Rising Skywards kept running, trying to evade a creature she could never escape. Her host.

She'd heard stories of course, nearly everyone had. Of hosts who's minds were strong enough to linger, at times even take control, but she'd never even suspected hers was one of them. The creature's lust for violence had been overwhelming, even now, almost an hour later, the memory of it alone was enough to make her want to take a shower.

There was nothing for it, she'd have to get a new host.

_You would murder me so easily? _The host whispered in her mind.

"Go away!" She shouted, voice echoing in the darkness. She regretted leaving on foot now, but she'd just been so scared.

_I can't._ The voice was mournful and quiet.

She scanned the empty streets, hoping to see a Seeker, or just another Soul, anyone who could help.

_And how would they help?_ The voice was so quiet, almost subliminal. _The only one who can fight me is you, but why must we fight? Do you even have an answer?_

The truth was that she didn't, but there was something fundamentally _wrong_ with the host still being conscious.

_I thought not. My advice, go back to your car. Drive home, then go to sleep, we'll talk in the morning. _The host said, not unkindly, though she knew deep down it only wanted to maim and injure, it had shown it's true nature earlier. Still the host was correct about the best course of action, angry at having to follow it's suggestion she stormed off back to the car.

Author's Note: I know this chapter's been a long time coming and I hope it seems worth the wait. Also it actually was rather hard to write a fight scene where my main character actually takes a beating, I'm used to them all being black belts or mages or something along those lines, not-a-run-of-the-mill-human.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long, exams got in the way and will continue to do so for some time, but I hope I can get a couple more chapters out before 2013.

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><p><p>

Matt woke up, his ribs burned and his jaw ached but other than that he'd got off relatively uninjured. Not bad for a guy who hadn't thrown a punch in two years.

_Savage._

If only his houseguest could be a little bit more cooperative. "No more so than necessary." He replied calmly, his lack of emotion annoying Rising Skywards ever further. "Do you want anything for breakfast?" He asked, now his presence was revealed he was determined to be the gracious host. In both senses of the word.

_I'm not hungry. _The thought was sullen and rebellious, Matt could forgive the emotion behind it, it must be quite difficult coming to terms with the fact the body you'd thought was yours was more rented than owned. It never occurred to him that the same argument could be applied to him as well. Still no matter how forgiving he was prepared to be there was no way he was going to miss a chance to be sarcastic.

"Fascinating, considering we share a body and I'm starving."He snarked.

He got dressed quickly, flailing mildly as a foot managed to get stuck in a trouserleg, then falling over as the other foot which he'd planned to provide stability managed to do the same.

Still he was downstairs eating breakfast less than five minutes later. Weetabix, with about three tablespoons of sugar on it, half a bowlful of milk and then microwaved for long enough the sugar was almost a glaze. The way he'd always eaten it, at least when it had been his body, normally he wouldn't have gone in for petty spite but she was getting on his nerves.

One dishwasherful later he was sitting at the table waiting for Rising to initiate the conversation. She wasn't due in to work today so there was no rush.

It was almost amusing that the soul seemed to believe she could outwait him, two years of captivity had more than taught him the art of patience.

Ten minutes passed simply sitting in the chair, Matt was more than content to wait, not even trying to intrude upon Rising's thoughts. Until finally...

_Why do you enjoy violence? _The thought was serious and sombre, not the lighthearted tone of the soul he'd come to know.

"I don't."

_I saw your mind remember, you were revelling in it._

"You mistake joy at the adrenaline rush for joy in the act." Matt answered calmly, accepting the statement as the attempt to lash out that it was.

_I should have this body destroyed._

"I'd like to see you try. In case you haven't noticed I'm the dominant consciousness in this body." Matt stated, his voice forceful.

_What do you want then?_

"To exist." Matt said softly.

There was no reply.

For a barbaric human her host was remarkably reasonable. And that fact annoyed Rising Skywards to no end. She would have preferred it if hate had spewed from his lips like so many of the rest of his kind, she could have hated him then, she wanted to hate him.

But it was hard when every accusation was answered as though it was merely an interesting idea, every grievance refuted with calm logic. She wanted to hate him so much, humans were something to fear and yet it was so hard to direct either emotion towards someone being so... reasonable.

_What do you want then? _She demanded, trying to remain harsh and accusing in the face of such peacefulness.

"To exist." And after that she forgave him everything.

Author's Note: I'm afraid it's a bit on the short side, but the next chapter should hopefully make things a little more exciting.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long, those who've read Colony or SGU will already know why. Anyway here's the chapter.

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><p>A month had gone by and, in Matt's opinion, things were finally starting to settle down between Rising and himself.<p>

Which wasn't to say there weren't blazing rows every other day. Still they had reached a couple of compromises, like who got control of the telly on which day, although Rising still objected to his choice of show.

Still he was coming to enjoy this new life, where his soul was aware of him, for one it meant he didn't have to stay up as late to get a little time controlling the body, something he was sure both of them appreciated.

There were still problems however, like now.

_Look you can't just 'inform the seekers' that I'm still here._

"Why not?" Rising asked curiously, rather struggling with Matt's fear of discovery both as concept and due to the chemicals it forced onto her body, making her feel his fear.

_They'll kill me._

"I'm sure that-"

_Not a chance. _Matt thought back firmly. _They'd have you out and me dead before you'd even finished your sentence, it's not happening._

"A little give and take?" Rising begged, hoping to get something back in return for sharing the body.

_I'm giving my body. _Matt replied firmly, _If anyone is entitled to take it's me. No seekers._

Rising sighed, "Very well." She conceded, rising from her chair. "But I get to pick tonight's DVD."

_Done. _Matt agreed, managing to hide his horror at the thought of yet another night watching Sesame Street. He really couldn't understand the alien's squeamishness where even Red Dwarf was viewed as too violent, though he'd managed to sell her on the first episode or two. Of course insisting on watching Alien every fourth day was probably a bit petty.

Then again so was binning his collection of bokken while he'd been asleep. Perhaps things weren't quite as settled as he wanted to admit.

_Rising. _He said softly in their mind. _I just want to pop to the shops, would you mind?_

"Ok." She sighed, unhappy about relinquishing control but also not wanting to have to deal with the shopkeeper, she'd become increasingly reclusive since Matt had turned up, best to be in the background of the mind for this.

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><p>Fifteen minutes later Matt stopped outside the shops, eyes on the person loitering in one of the alleys.<p>

"Do you see it?" He asked the voice in his head.

_See what? It's just a boy._

"To you Watson perhaps." He snarks, "Now be a bit more precise."

_Uh... teenager, late teens, wearing plain clothes, no logos but I can't see how that would be important, and wearing a pair of sunglasses which for some bizarre reason you think are really cool._

"Close, but how about this. He's got no occupying Soul, plans to rob the shop and this is clearly his first robbery so he's obviously desperate."

_How can you know that?_

"How can you not? He's got more nervous tics than a Lime disease research lab, just watch the hands, the fists keep clenching and his palms are sweating, not to mention he keeps pacing in the mouth of the alley. Clearly he's trying to steel his nerves for something. Now go to the bulge in his left trouser pocket, that's a gun, the handle, if you were paying attention you would have seen, is barely visible beneath his jacket. Now violent intent makes him either a Seeker or a human. And even a Seeker wouldn't wear sunglasses on a rainy day." Matt explains calmly.

_Shouldn't we call the Seekers? He might kill someone!_

"Not necessary, he's not going to kill anyone." Matt said, forcing his body back to a locomotive state.

_How can you be so sure?_

"Read. My. Mind."

_Oh no. Don't you dare! Don't you dare! _She screamed in his head as Matt moved into the mouth of the alley, keeping his head down so the light never hit his eyes directly as he leaned against the wall.

"Hey kid, fancy not getting caught by the Seekers?" He asked nonchalantly. The poor kid nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Wha-what? Who are you?" The guy stammered.

"Unimportant for the moment." He said, taking a grip on his gun arm and dragging him deeper into the alley. "At the risk of sounding cliché, follow me if you want to live."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me who you are!" The human half-shouted, pulling his sleeve from Matt's grip and, much to Matt's annoyance, pulling the gun from his pocket, levelling it at his chest.

"Foolish. Most foolish but very well, I will explain a few simple facts. Firstly if I noticed you're human then so has someone else, which means Seekers are already on their way. Secondly I'm trying to save your life and thirdly, your safety's on."

It got the desired reaction, the idiot's gaze fixing on the gun itself.

A tackle, a headbutt in the gut, and the gun spins out of sight into the darkness. But it's not that simple, the man fights back, an elbow to the back of the head drives him to the floor. Franticly Matt crawls away, evading the kick, before forcing himself to his feet, turning to face his opponent.

"I don't like having a gun in my face." Matt said simply.

"You're crazy." The guy spluttered.

"Quite likely, now are you going to follow me or not?"

The decision was rather taken from them by the sound of sirens, clearly the Seekers hadn't been content to wait until their conversation was concluded.

"You coming?" Matt demanded, keen to keep the initiative, before running deeper into the web of alleys.

The guy followed, lacking many other choices.

To most people the alleys would be a maze but Matt had grown intimately familiar with their twists and turns during his nighttime walks as Rising's own noctambulist. He soon lost the Seekers and nearly lost the human, having to slow down.

Once he was certain pursuit would prove almost impossible, he stopped, leaning against a wall to regain his breath, the other guy doing the same, his breathing even more ragged.

"So what's your name?" He asked, once his breathing reached something resembling normal.

"James." was the out of breath response.

"Matt." Matt replied. "So is this your usual idea of fun, or are you new to attempted suicide?"

_Don't antagonise him, he could get violent again!_

Matt restrained a laugh, particularly when James glared. "I would have been fine." His new acquaintance growled.

"You'd be dead, if lucky." Matt stated with exceptional bluntness.

"But-"

"Dead." Matt stops him. "Now follow me, you can spend the night at my place and then we'll see about getting you out of the city."

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><p>Rising Skyward scowled, the human was probably correct about what would happen to him if his continued presence were to ever become known outside of this body, but it was still exceptionally annoying to lose an argument to a voice in her own head.<p>

"Do you see it?" The human asked obtusely. Still she filled their gaze to the boy resting against the alley wall.

_See what? It's just a boy._

"To you Watson perhaps." The human said vaguely, it took Rising a moment to place the reference, a frightful novel of murder and cruelty with little to no redeeming features.

The human continued. "Now be a bit more precise."

Rising sighed internally, realising Matt was seeking an answer in the style of the book. Still she'd give it a try. _Uh... teenager, late teens, wearing plain clothes, no logos but I can't see how that would be important, and wearing a pair of sunglasses which for some bizarre reason you think are really cool. _She said with a bizarre insight into Matt's mind.

"Close, but how about this. He's got no occupying Soul, plans to rob the shop and this is clearly his first robbery so he's obviously desperate." The human said.

_How can you know that? _Rising demanded, convinced he was making it up.

"How can you not? He's got more nervous tics than a Lime disease research lab, just watch the hands, the fists keep clenching and his palms are sweating, not to mention he keeps pacing in the mouth of the alley. Clearly he's trying to steel his nerves for something. Now go to the bulge in his left trouser pocket, that's a gun, the handle, if you were paying attention you would have seen, is barely visible beneath his jacket. Now violent intent makes him either a Seeker or a human. And even a Seeker wouldn't wear sunglasses on a rainy day." The human explained at length.

Now that she saw the same details his analysis was clear and obvious, annoying so. Naturally she panicked. _Shouldn't we call the Seekers? He might kill someone!_

"Not necessary, he's not going to kill anyone." The human foolishly replied.

Rising couldn't believe it, surely Matt knew how violent his species was, and this one was armed. Still Matt clearly wasn't feeling threatened in the slightest as he walked towards alley and shop. Still she wondered how he knew, and asked as much.

"Read. My. Mind." He replied, and she did, much to her horror.

_Oh no. Don't you dare! Don't you dare!_ She screamed in their mind, trying to snatch back control of their body to no avail.

"Hey kid, fancy not getting caught by the Seekers?" Her idiot host asked, clearly trying to get them both killed.

The armed human jumped, startling Rising, if not her host. ""Wha-what? Who are you?" The man was panicking, and there was no telling what a scared human would do.

"Unimportant for the moment. At the risk of sounding cliché, follow me if you want to live." At least Matt seemed to have the situation in hand as he dragged the human deep into the alley.

Sadly though that wasn't to last as the human shook her host off, drawing his gun. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me who you are!"

Her human took it surprisingly calmly, though perhaps not so surprisingly, like the rest of his kind he was at home with violence. "Foolish. Most foolish but very well, I will explain a few simple facts. Firstly if I noticed you're human then so has someone else, which means Seekers are already on their way. Secondly I'm trying to save your life and thirdly, your safety's on."

Then her host moved, knocking the human's gun to the floor then kicking it away. She tried to tune out the fighting from her head, trying to clear her mind.

"I don't like having a gun in my face." Matt said simply, she had to admit it was one thing they both agreed on.

"You're crazy." The human yelled, again something human and soul agreed upon.

"Quite likely, now are you going to follow me or not?"

Before the human could respond the Seekers arrived, or at least got close, unfortunately her idiot host decided to run away from such safety, and took the human with him. Then to top it all off her host invited the human to their house, it was almost enough to make her feel violent.

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><p>Author's Note: Voila, an update at long last.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Far too long, my apologies.

"Well isn't this a pickle." Matt murmured, gesturing the teen into a chair. Internally he cursed himself and his rash decisions, as did his dear friend inside his head.

_Idiot! What do you think he's going to do when he finds out that I'm here? _Raged Rising, a tad upset about things.

"Deja vu much?" He murmured quietly to himself, the comment apparently going unheard by his fellow human. "So how've you survived so long without getting caught?"

"Put your hood down first, I want to know you're human." James demanded insistently.

"That could prove problematic, though I must compliment your analysis." He grins weakly under his hood, "but unfortunately a touch of explanation is in order on my part before I show you my eyes. Otherwise this is going to devolve into a shouting match."

"So you're a parasite?" James stammered out, eyes wide with fear, backing away as his eyes sought something to defend himself with, cursing his own stupidity as the soul blocked the path between him and the door.

"Technically the soul-human relationship is closer to symbiotic than parasitic though I know what you mean, and yes this body is inhabited by a soul." Matt answered coolly. "Don't panic, please. If I wanted you hurt I'd have left you for the Seekers."

"And why didn't you?" The young man snapped, fear and suspicion clouding his judgement.

"Simple enough. There are two minds at war in this simple human shell, and I'm winning. I being the human personality, the human personality being mine." Matt babbled, before realising how incoherent he was being. "Sorry, it's been a long time since I could talk to a voice that wasn't in my own head, and that was before the alien takeover." It was a weak joke and seemed to only alarm his guest further. "Sorry, I was just kidding. Please let me begin again: The human-soul relationship is symbiotic with the human personality typically being submerged or suppressed. In some instances, I surmise, as I don't know anyone else who's done it, the human personality appears to be capable of dominating the soul. I am one of those rare cases. Matt at your service, still human."

"That's some speech." James replied slowly, still keeping his distance, "Why should I believe any of it?"

"Honestly? You shouldn't, it's a farcical explanation with no hard evidence, the only reason even _I_ believe it is because I am it." Matt replied amiably. "If it would make you feel more at ease, I could let you fetch a knife or something."

That bizarre statement seemed to relax him; everyone knows how adverse souls are to violence; and even a Seeker wouldn't trust a human with a weapon. James even went so far as to pull up a chair.

"So how does that work?" He asked after a significant pause.

"We've worked out a timeshare system." Matt revealed with a smile, "It isn't perfect but it works."

"Oh, and... how does it feel about all this?" James inquired nervously, still quite nervous about all this and not entirely convinced.

"Usually she's annoyed and insulting to be honest." He admitted, accentuating the use of the female pronoun. "though for reasons I can't even begin to fathom, she's staying quiet for the moment. Thank heavens for small mercies."

"And how does it feel about me?" Matt's guest inquired, expression depicting a doubtful bemusement. Not that Matt could blame him, as he'd stated, the only reason even he believed he was that he was him, though for such a far-fetched tale James certainly appeared to be taking it rather well.

"At best, begrudging indifference, at worst, naked fear and hostility. She's convinced you'll kill us both." He shrugged, "I keep trying to tell her that we're not as bad as all that. I mean personally I'm with Voltaire on the subject."

"Who's Voltaire?" James snapped, "Another one like you?"

"No a French writer of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, quite prolific. Though I'm about to commit a mild misquote in the name of summarizing the views put forth by him, in nineteen oh eight, in _The Friends of Voltaire_, Evelyn Beatrice Hall said, as a summation of Voltaire's views, 'I disprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.' but there's no definitive evidence Voltaire himself ever... why are you looking at me like that?"

"Where on Earth did you learn all that junk?"

There was a significant pause of stunned disbelief before Matt finally rediscovered his voice, "Are you really describing freedom of thought as junk?"

This time it was James on the back foot, "I- I meant all that quotey stuff you were doing, why not just say freedom of thought is important?"

Matt sighed, "Nevermind."

Rising sighed internally. The humans were still talking, and although they weren't shouting or anything similarly aggressive there was still an undercurrent of tension between them.

She'd been surprised the human had stood up for her, and even more surprised at herself for the surge of gratitude she'd felt.

For the moment she had a reasonable amount of access to his surface thoughts, a courtesy he'd given her to assure her that the mild vitriol he was spouting against her was merely to assuage the fears of the other human. For once she wasn't dismayed by the deceit, as long as it was keep them, and by extension her, safe then it was necessary.

She just hoped that Matt would get rid of him soon, just having James in her house was proving so unnerving she daren't even take control hours after they'd entered her time of the timeshare.

Author's Note: I cut this chapter slightly shorter than I'd hoped as I'm try to remedy my long absence by putting out chapters in every fic I can persuade my muse to take interest in.


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